No Longer Silent
by xXxdanknoscoperxXx
Summary: Lovina reveals to Antonio that she is uncomfortable in her body. I found a story kind of similar to this one and since I found that this subject matter in relation to one of my friends has been concerning me as of late, I thought I'd get some of those pesky feels out. (It's been a while since I've read or watched APH so I'm a bit rusty with canon.)


"So, what do you think of this little gift I got for you?" asked Antonio as he presented Lovina with his newest purchase: a beautiful red dress, knee length with a full, frilly skirt, and a frilled off-shoulder neckline.

Certainly it would have been a dream dress for any girl, but, to Lovina, it represented all that was wrong with the way Antonio saw her.

She wanted to throw it to the ground and burn it when he handed it to her. She wanted desperately to tell him how she felt: wrong, and that these clothes he kept buying for her made her feel wronger and wronger. She fought each time to say them but none of those words would ever come out.

"It's very popular in my country, Lovi. All the girls are wearing it," he urged happily.

She gripped the fabric tightly in both hands as she fought the urge to rip it to shreds. The knuckles on her hands slowly grew pale as she stared at the frilled and gaily colored fabric. It was feminine, even for a dress, meant to show off her legs and accentuate her waistline and hips.

Finally, she found her voice, as feeble and exhausted as it was. "I… I don't want to wear this," she said as she brought her gaze down to the floor.

"Huh? But it would look very nice on you. If you would just try it on—"

"I said I don't want to!" she threw the dress to the floor suddenly and immediately regretted the near-involuntary action.

Antonio, however, was unfazed, and knelt down to pick up the dress. With a small nervous chuckle, he teased, "I know you don't like the clothing I pick for you, but I didn't think you would hate this that much."

Lovina pulled at the fabric of her apron as she slowly brought her gaze back up. "I'm sorry. I-I didn't mean to do that." Her eyes darted around a bit whenever she tried to focus them on Antonio.

"Don't worry about it!" he grinned reassuringly. "It was my own fault. I should have asked you before buying it." He scratched at his face while he chuckled again. "Though… you don't really seem to like anything I've picked out for you. It would really help if you told me what you wanted. I'm sure I could find it."

She could suddenly feel her heart beating in her chest as she dared to look into his sincere expression. Now was her chance. All she had to do was tell him. But despite his invitation it seemed an insurmountable obstacle. Her heartbeat felt so strong she wondered for a moment if her heart was fit to burst.

Instead, she said, "Go with whatever you feel like." Immediately she wished she hadn't said those words, but they were the easiest to say. Her heart finally began to slow itself down.

She earned a soft laugh for that. "Believe me, Lovi, I've been going with what I feel like for all this time and you haven't liked a thing. Isn't there something you want?" he looked at her eagerly.

Now was her chance. She could do it. It was so simple, just a few words. Her heart was racing even faster than before.

"Lovi…?" he asked, tilting his head to the side as he waited patiently, and with much curiosity, for her answer.

"I… I…" she began before being stopped by a sudden lump in her throat. Not wanting to be deterred, she swallowed it down and began again, her voice shakier than ever. "I… I want … I-I want clothes like… like y-yours…" she looked away from his face as she said it, and pulled so strongly at her apron that the fabric threatened to tear.

A few second of silence passed as Antonio looked at her with a bemused expression.

He chuckled softly and spoke, "Oh… Lovi, what are you saying? I wear men's clothing. You can't wear that."

She wanted to cry at his reaction, but with a shaky voice, she replied, "I… I want to. I want to… I-I want to…. b-be like you." She wished that she could have elaborated on "like you", but the words were not coming easily, and that was all she could force from her mouth.

If Antonio was puzzled before, now he was positively perplexed.

"Lovi, are you…," Antonio began, before pausing for an agonizingly long moment to collect his thoughts, and continuing, "Are you saying you want to feel like a man?" the words stabbed into her like a knife and she suddenly felt her guts go ice cold. There. It's finally been said. No taking anything back now; the feelings were in the air as plain as day, now concrete and unchangeable.

Her eyes were plastered to the floor and, for all her shame and fear, she could not lift them to see his face. She struggled to find words to say but nothing would come out. The lump in her throat was immovable. The urge to cry grew stronger and stronger and she fought with all her might to stave off the tears.

It was to no avail.

The first fell, then the second, and before she could stop them, they began to rain down onto the floor in great, fat droplets. She couldn't even stop the small, shallow, erratic breaths that came as she wept like a young child.

Lovina nearly flinched as she felt a hand on her shoulder, but relaxed as Antonio slowly wrapped his arms around her in a soft embrace.

"It's OK, Lovi," he reassured her, petting her head with his hand when she nestled her face into his shoulder, staining his shirt with her tears. "It's all OK." He continued to soothe her with soft shushes until Lovina began to breathe smooth and evenly again.

Breaking the embrace, Antonio kept a hand on her shoulder and placed the other on her cheek, using his thumb to wipe away some of the newer tears that leaked in small rivers down Lovina's unmarred skin.

A long few moments passed before she finally lifted her eyes to see Antonio's face, bright as ever, with a big, kind smile radiating happiness and love. The expression so surprised her that she quickly brought her gaze back down to the floor, her face red with shame.

"Lovi," he cooed, placing his hand beneath her chin and slowly lifting her head, forcing her to face him. She stared meekly into his smiling face.

"There's no reason to hate yourself or your body." He smiled as he began to gently stroke her hair. "You're a very pretty young woman."

It was like a shot from a gun. She knew he did not understand. The tears came once more but this time she made no attempt to stop them. What was the use? She'd exposed to him the most vulnerable part of herself, kept hidden for so many years, and in the end, it wasn't worth it. He would never understand.

"Oh, Lovi," he reassured. "I'm telling the truth." He moved to continue his stroking patterns in Lovina's hair but she slapped his hand away. He stepped back, startled.

Her face was a mess. Tears streaked down her cheeks and dripped sloppily off of her chin. Her nose leaked snot that she struggled in vain to breathe through.

"L-Lovi..? What's wrong?"

She couldn't have responded even if she wanted to. She collapsed to her knees as she opened her mouth and began to sob and wail through her tears, feeling so much like a neglected child. She wanted him to understand but couldn't say the words to make him. She just couldn't.

When Lovina felt his hand reach for her shoulder again, she slapped it away with more force than before. "Don't touch me! Don't touch me!" she shouted, "Don't!"

She cried for a long while, bawling with the intensity of a newborn.

"I… Lovi, I… All I said was that you're a beautiful young woman an—" Antonio tried desperately to find a way to calm her down before he was interrupted.

"No!", she yelled between sobs. "No! *hic* No!" She fought to say. "I'm not!"

Antonio was absolutely bewildered. "Lovi, of course you are. You're very pretty, everyone—"

"I'm *hic* not a *hic*… not a *hic*… not a woman *hic*." Her voice sounded so desperate and pleading as she cried, and Antonio had no idea what to do.

"What do you mean? You are a woman, Lovi. All girls become women."

Lovina wasn't getting through to him any better than she had before, and, in desperation, buried her face into her hands, and screamed in pure frustration.

"Lovi!" Antonio urged, shocked by her behavior. "Lovi, what's gotten into you?"

"I'm not a girl!" she screamed into her hands. "I'm not I'm not I'm not I'm not I'm not I'm not!"

Antonio couldn't find any words with which to reply, and only stared, confused.

After a few moments her sobs slowly died down and she sniffled softly into her palms. "I… I feel like… a m-man… in my…. head...," she finally confessed, struggling to keep her voice above a whisper. Her mind still fought to keep it hidden but she wanted so much for him to know her burden.

Another long silence.

"L-…. Lovi, are you… being serious?"

She nodded her head slowly and sniffled twice, hands still covering her face.

"Oh… Oh, Lovi…" Antonio knelt and wrapped his arms around her, and this time she didn't slap his hands away. "I'm so sorry," he whispered.

They sat saying nothing, neither of them moving save for Lovina's occasional trembling. Finally, Antonio broke the embrace and stood, pulling Lovina up by the arm with him.

Carefully, he moved her hands away from her face. "I really am sorry, Lovi." He produced a handkerchief from his pocket and began to wipe away at her (his?) cheeks. It was a strange confession. He had never thought of Lovina as anything but a pretty young woman, but now…

Lovina still stared dejectedly at the floor, and Antonio wished that he could do more.

"Lovi," he began. No reply. He brushed the hair, usually so long and beautiful but no completely disheveled, from Lovina's face. A small flinch was his only response.

"They might be big for you but… I can let you have some of my clothes."

Lovina blinked in disbelief, feeling fingers stroking through hair again, and looked up to see Antonio's bright, smiling face.

"…. Really..?"

"Of course. I'm sure they'll look great on you… Lovino."

With a relieved smile forming, both from the offer, and from hearing that name, Lovino hugged Antonio tightly, squeezing the breath out of him for a moment.

"Thank you, Antonio," he said.


End file.
